


watch westworld with me

by thefudge



Category: Crazy Ex-Girlfriend (TV)
Genre: Bonding, Boss/Employee Relationship, Breaking the Fourth Wall, F/M, Grumpy Yuppie and Millennial Dumbass, May/December but he's not much older but it feels that way cuz Maya is such a kid, Opposites Attract
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-03
Updated: 2018-11-03
Packaged: 2019-08-17 05:16:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16510055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thefudge/pseuds/thefudge
Summary: Season 4-ish. One night, after hours, Maya decides to issue Nathaniel an invitation.





	watch westworld with me

**Author's Note:**

> hey, remember when Maya talked about watching Westworld with her dad? well, here we are!  
> is anyone surprised that i have yet another crackship i wanna dish about?  
> but no seriously, these two could be great! the dynamic would be hilarious and fresh, imo.  
> or maybe it's just me. probably just me. (but imagine!)

“Insert row below? Don’t mind if I do,” Nathaniel hummed to himself in a poor attempt at having fun.

There was nothing more satisfying than sitting in his office after hours with a Red Bull, drawing up a table in Word.doc with all the things he could start doing now that he and Rebecca had broken up for good. He was free to go back to doing 7-hour gym programs, load up on protein shakes, maybe even sleep in his pajamas, since she used to undress him like a hungry hyena. He chuckled to himself.

_No, no! She’s bad for you, you’re bad for her. End of._

He slapped himself, and then added “physical self-abuse” to the list. He could return to his regime of self-flagellation now that he was alone. He kicked himself under the table.

_Ah, that's the good stuff._

Should he kick himself again just so he could feel the rush of pain?

He almost jumped out of his seat when he heard the dainty cough behind him.

“Mr. Plimpton? Nathaniel, Sir? Are you okay?”

He swung in his chair and instantly felt like crawling under his desk. Of all the hucksters in this office, it had to be Maya who was also here at this hour. There she was, nervously pushing her glasses up her nose like a kid waiting for her parents to pick her up from school. He sighed. She wasn’t his least favorite person – he liked to think he had come to tolerate all of them by now– but her voice and mannerisms and general way of _being_ reminded him why he didn’t talk to anyone under 26.

“What do you want, Maya?” he asked wearily.

“So, I saw the light in your office and I thought hey, I’m not the only one who had trouble finishing her workload today. Boy, it really gets distracting around the holidays –”

“It’s barely November. And I finished my workload _ahead_ of time. This is me doing _extra_ work.”

“Oh,” she deflated. “Well, um, I only came to ask if you wanted to take a break with me. Since we’re the only two people left. Nathaniel Sir.”

Nathaniel frowned. He didn’t like being called “Sir” in that way, but he supposed it was a good idea to not let her become too chummy.

“Why would I take a break when I’m being productive?” he asked, staring at the document where he had typed “self-abuse” five times in a row.

“Um, well, I’ve got the second season of Westworld on my phone and I haven’t had a chance to catch up, and I was gonna crash in the break room by myself, but I thought I’d ask, just to be polite.”

Nathaniel felt the beginning of a headache. It might’ve been the fact that he hadn’t gotten up from his desk in five hours – or her voice. Definitely her voice.

“Westworld?” he asked, distracted.

Maya’s mouth broke into a dramatic ‘O’.

“Oh my God, you haven’t seen it?! Oh my God, it’s like, _so_ smart, you’d love it. It’s like a huge, mind-bending puzzle, like _Inception_ and the _Matrix_ and _Lost_ all rolled into one. I even heard that some undergrad programs hand out degrees if you can prove you understand the timelines.”

Nathaniel understood only half of the words she was saying, but he couldn’t get her to stop. 

“I usually watch it with my dad – well, technically, we live-blog it over Skype and then we swap theories – but you’re _kind_ of a father figure in the office, I mean, after Darryl. You can be Dad number 2, or wait, Dad number 3 actually, if we keep count –”

“First of all,” he intercepted with a huff, “I am _no one’s_ third spot, and second of all, I am only ten years your senior.”

“That’s _pretty_ senior,” Maya mused, subtracting the numbers in her head. “Oh my God, you were born in _1985_? That’s, like, so far back. Was that when they made the original _Teen Wolf_? I’ve only seen the one on the CW with Dylan O’Brien. I know everyone loves him, but I personally find him kind of bland? Like, sure he’s cute –”

“Jesus, _stop_. You’re worse than Chinese torture. You can plug the TV in the conference room and I will sit several seats away from you. Maybe.”

Maya clapped happily. “Oh my God, this is gonna be so much fun!”

“Yeah, double down on that enthusiasm, I said _maybe_. I might change my mind. So don’t act like this is a thing –”

But before he could say anything else, Maya had removed her glasses and placed them on his desk. She pivoted on her heels in the middle of the room and – all of a sudden – she started singing.

The weird thing was that the moment the music started, everything in the office turned black and white, like in an old-time movie. Nathaniel couldn’t have known since it was before his time, but the melody was familiar. It was the same, in fact, which had been used in the song “Settle For Me”.

Except it was Maya singing about Westworld. While tap-dancing.

♪ _Watch it with me,_

_Hey, Sad Boss-Man, watch Westworld with me,_

_It’s the best thing that you’ll ever see_

_At least the best with James Marsden in iiiit_ ♪

Nathaniel rolled his eyes. “I’m not _sad_. And I already reluctantly said yes, you don’t have to do whatever this is –”

But she carried on, nonetheless.

♪ _I know I don’t make the top five or even ten_

_Of people you’d watch HBO with_

_But maybe for once, if I put on a mustache,_

_you can pretend I’m your favorite guy, Geoooorge_ ♪

“George is not my – he doesn't even have a mustache! Can you please stop –”

♪ _So watch it with me,_

_Sad Boss-Man, watch Westworld with me,_

_Dad No. 3, just watch it with me_

_Because you might realiiiiize_

_That Thandie Newton and Rachel Evan Wood are_

_The best actresses in our current TV landscape_

_And I know I’m not on beat,_

_But you have to admit,_

_This cover song is pretty siiiiick_ ♪

Nathaniel grabbed her by the shoulders and turned her around. “If you don’t stop right now, you’re fired. And I’m going to get Westworld cancelled too. I have that power.”

Maya blinked like a deer caught in the headlights. “Um, okay. I’ll stop.”

“Good.”

“I think there’s some leftover cupcakes and pretzels in the kitchen, should I go get them?”

Nathaniel scoffed. “ _Please_. I’m not putting that junk in my body.”

Ten minutes later, Nathaniel was surreptitiously licking the icing off a coconut cupcake while Maya connected the TV to her HBO account. When she turned around, he pushed the cupcake away.

“One episode,” he warned her, sitting at the other end of the conference table.

“Sure thing Da – I mean Nathaniel. Nathaniel _Sir_.”

Nathaniel scowled and tugged at his tie. He wasn’t that _old_. Although a part of him didn’t completely hate the idea of –well – seniority. I mean, objectively speaking, being called _Sir_ by a younger woman –

 _Ugh, God, get a grip._ He had really sunk low. Maya was the last person he’d ever consider in that way for obvious reasons. She was not his type, not even _a_ type, really. And intellectually, at least, she was fifteen.

“Okay, get ready for your whole world to be rocked,” she announced dramatically.  

He almost envied her passion. How did people get so happy about _one_ thing?

He didn’t think he’d get pulled into a remake of a corny 70s sci-fi classic. His family had always looked down on anything too hip and progressive. Hell, they still believed the Moon landing was just leftist propaganda – I mean, had we _colonized_ the Moon? No, just landed on it? Pff, not impressive enough for the Plimptons – but one episode of Westworld soon turned into three, and by episode four, he had pulled out a sheet of paper and was drawing up character charts and trying to figure out who was a host and who was human. It was invigorating, losing himself in this other world which also seemed terrifyingly plausible.

“It really makes you think, huh? Maybe people around us are just really expensive silicon models," she suggested with a devious smile. 

Nathaniel rolled his eyes. “Okay, we’re not going that far.”

“Don't tell anyone but,” she giggled, “I thought _you_ were a host when you first took over the firm. I thought someone must have engineered you. I, uh, mean that as a compliment, of course. Nathaniel Sir.”

“Will you  _stop_ calling me that? And…thank you, but it’s still insulting. I’m not a machine.”

“Neither are the hosts! They are capable of feelings. They have, like, consciousness. They're kind of better than us. That’s the whole point.”

“True…” he trailed off, staring down at his scribbling. What was he doing exactly? Nerding out with the office loser? Well, okay, Maya wasn’t a loser, but she was not exactly successful either. At least she wasn't hollow like him. She enjoyed things.

“Still,” he persisted. “I’m a person, like you.”

Maya bit her lip. “I know. I’m sorry. It must have been hard…”

He looked at her sharply. She was only two seats away from him now. Huh, had he moved closer? “What must have been hard?”

“Losing someone like Rebecca. She’s so great. Did I tell you she's my _idol?_   She makes life... exciting, you know?”

Nathaniel sucked in a deep breath. “Yes… I guess she does. But I didn’t lose her. That’s not how it works.”

Maya nodded eagerly. “No, of course not! She’s not a trophy. I’m a feminist, I would never say that. But maybe one day, you’ll get her back? In like a non-proprietary way?”

“No…that’s not…Look, let’s just watch the next episode, okay?”

Maya beamed. “Aye-aye, Boss.”

Boss. He could live with that. As long as he wasn’t Sad Boss-Man.

 

 

They ended up bingeing the whole first season in a night. It was almost 2 in the morning when they finally left the conference room. Nathaniel felt bloated with cupcakes and self-hatred, but he was also weirdly at peace. As if he really _had_ done something productive with his time. He shoved his notes in his pocket.

Maya was annoyingly awake and full of energy. She wanted to watch season two. God, young people.

“No. I’ll drive you home and you can watch it on your own. And we’ll never speak of this again, okay? If anyone finds out we stayed over time to watch TV –”

“It’s not just watching TV, it’s an _experience_.”

“Like I said, if anyone finds out, you’re out of a job and Westworld gets cancelled. Got it?”

Maya nodded despondently. “Got it.”

They took the elevator down together, and thankfully, it did not get jammed between floors, thus prompting them to get to know each other. No, such wacky events only happened around Rebecca. They walked to the parking lot without even a hint of shenanigans. He felt relieved, and a little bit annoyed. Why was he still thinking of Rebecca? Why did it matter?

He opened the door for Maya and she settled in the front seat, clasping her seat belt. 

“This car smells so nice. It’s like a forest.”

“Uh, thanks.” 

"I've been in other cars and they always smell like someone's sat in them too long, you know?"

"That's - that's what cars are for, actually."  

“Do you like scented candles? My aunt says that they can give you cancer, but I’m _addicted_ to the stuff. I mean, the marzipan-bacon combo? It’s my crack cocaine.”

Nathaniel ran a hand over his face. “God, this town is the worst.”

“I _knooow_ ,” she drawled, leaning back in her seat. “But like, it’s also the best.”

When he asked her for her address, it took her two minutes and a Google Maps search to remember the name. God, young people.

He dropped her off without any other incidents and, as she got out of his car, she promised she wouldn’t start watching season 2 without him.

He scoffed. “Do whatever you want.” And he drove away.

Halfway to his apartment, he found himself humming a song under his breath. He didn’t realize what it was at first.

It was only when he shoved the keys in the lock that he deciphered it.

_Watch it with me…Sad-Boss Man watch it with me…_

Nathaniel slapped himself. He really needed to get a grip.

 

 

Several days later, the whole office was bedecked for Christmas.

“It’s not even Thanksgiving yet,” he muttered grumpily as he barely avoided getting trapped in a web of garlands in the break room.

He was going to wait until the workday was over and then he was going to systematically remove at least _half_ of the decorations.

It was progress. Before, he would’ve chucked them all out and cackled gleefully too, but he was no Scrooge anymore. 

Those glorious days were over.

It was 9:30 and he was reading a commercial lease agreement while doing a light jog on his treadmill when Maya suddenly popped her head through the door.

“Late night again, Nathaniel Sir?”

“What did I tell you about calling me that?”

“Um, I forgot.”

Nathaniel heaved a sigh and paused the jogging session. It was a good thing he hadn’t removed his shirt.

“What do you want? Don’t tell me you haven’t finished your workload again. Because that’s a seriously fireable offense.”

Maya fidgeted nervously. “Okay, then, I guess I’m done?”

He squinted at her. “No, you’re not.”

Her shoulders sagged. “It’s just that – I can’t focus on anything, I have to watch season 2!”

Nathaniel frowned. “Who’s stopping you? Outside of your work hours, I mean.”

“Well, um, you, actually. We said we’d watch it together, remember?”

He rolled his eyes. “No, _you_ said that, and I told you to do whatever.”

It was Maya’s turn to scoff. “Don’t you know that ‘ _do whatever_ ’ is basically Millennial for a definite yes?”

Nathaniel frowned. “I didn’t know that, no.”

“I even canceled my viewing session with Dad. I told him, no, Dad, I have to cheer up my boss, and the only thing that’ll cheer him up is watching season two with me.”

 _Oh God, I went to Stanford. Where am I?_ Nathaniel pondered for a hot second.

He was too tired to point out that a) she was flattering herself to think that she _could_ cheer him up, b) it was completely weird and unprofessional of her to think she _should_ cheer him up, and c)….ah, screw it, he lost track of his argument.

He shrugged with a sense of defeat.

“Season 2 and that’s it.”

Maya did a little happy dance. He was almost afraid she’d break into that catchy song again, but thankfully, she dashed into the conference room to get everything ready.

He couldn’t believe his adult life had come down to this.

A few hours later, he was having a heated debate with her about the Man in Black and whether he should get resurrected. Maya’s great counterpoint was that she found him “weirdly hot for a grandpa” and Nathaniel wanted to fire her just for saying that. But he didn’t find her _quite_ as annoying as before. She was still an insufferable twenty-something, but maybe he could live with that. He was enjoying himself. Not _because_ of her, more like _in spite_ of her.

“Next episode?”

He sighed, as if he had to be cajoled into it, when he was actually looking forward to it. More than he had to anything in a long time. “Sure, why not.”

 

 

For Christmas that year, Nathaniel finally took part in the office Secret Santa. Only, of course, he didn’t really follow the rules. Or join in the spirit of things. He had just one person in mind.

He almost smiled when he heard Maya squeal louder than a police siren outside his office door. 

“Oh em gee, this is amaaazing!”

Paula picked up the scented candle. “Huh, this is…cute?”

“It’s a Westworld marzipan-bacon scented candle!”

“That’s very specific,” Paula offered diplomatically.

“I know, someone really knows me,” Maya mused, looking down the hall towards Nathaniel’s office. She couldn’t believe he’d shopped online for her and gotten her something custom-made too. That was like, a _big_ deal.

Now she had to figure out what to get him – oh this was fun! And stressful. Was he officially Dad number 3? Or…?

She didn’t know, but it was exciting! She was bonding with her boss!

Paula stared at her funny. “Sweetie, are you okay?”

What did Nathaniel want more than anything in the world, she wondered?

Maya gasped. “That’s it! What if I got them back together? What if _that’s_ my present? It'd be a Christmas miracle."

“What are you talking about?”

“No time to chat!” she cried, grabbing her phone and running out of the office.

“Huh…sounds like she’s got a subplot,” Paula remarked, tapping her chin. “One that might just turn everything upside down. Oh well, that’s television for you.”

“Who are you talking to?” Tim asked her as he passed by her cubicle.

“I sometimes like to pretend I’m the narrator of a juicy series on Showtime. _What_? We all do it.”

Tim couldn’t disagree with that. He wondered what it would be like to be on a TV show. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> leaving this open-ended because i might want to write more for them in the future. but also! "watch westworld with me" needs to be a song on the show! let's petition! and it's gotta sound exactly like "settle for me". it's the law.


End file.
